Thank you

I walked
a thousand blocks

with bleeding feet

for you to teach me
how to unlearn everything.

And in all those moments
when I was a refugee
from myself,

despair
blinding,

you stood quietly
green eyes firing

willing me through.

I suppose
letting you rewire me
was never gonna be easy

but
in the unraveling

a
sacred
rebuilding

you:
braided into me.

And all the distraction
the numbing, the

ceaseless running
of before:

given over (willingly or
forced)

to the quiet
that you require.

the laser-beam-present-moment focus
of watching a snail
inch along a path
for an hour,

together.

The subtle strength
of holding myself

still-fast enough for you

each day anew.

*

They say
parenting
is the fastest route

to enlightenment

if we can transcend
all the frightened

parts
of ourselves

but I was never
logics daughter

could never muster
lust, for any idea of a saviour

have always preferred
giving over to water

when the maelstroms come.

*

We are all haunted, grace-filled
beings

I was just trying to live
with the hauntings.

Wasn’t seeking,
anything.

But you brought me
to my knees

You broke me bodily
(the heart
was just the half of it)

you opened me

white flagged
the wars in me

my three-foot guru
in gumboot feet

*

When the light comes,
it spares nothing.

*

Rose
you were sent
to improve me

and I thank God
for your love

I thank God
I had the sense

to let you
undo me.

(For my daughter, Rose, on her 6th birthday.)